The Mixed Tape
by Shock to the Kota
Summary: Sixteen tracks, one story. This mix could sink the sun.  RichiexOC - Rated "T" for language
1. Introduction

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hello, world!**

**So this is my first story on this account… My old email got shut off (we have a new internet provider) and so my old FF account is "inaccessible". Oh well!**

**This may be "Chapter One" but it's really a prologue. Mmmhm. And I cut off a whole cheesy creeper scene! Heh, way to keep people in character, Kotes…**

**I've spent **_**weeks**_** re-watching the show to write this, and I STILL can't keep them in character… But I think I did alright, at least. But it's not MY opinion that matters, it's YOURS! Reviews make me a happy camper, and I'll only update if I get enough reviews. ;) I won't tell you all the secret number… You just gotta review! Aha, alright, so maybe that's kind of mean, but I really hate posting these things and hearing nothing back, you know? Review for Review, I promise.**

**Also, on this website where you can make playlists, I'll put together the sixteen tracks that makes up Kori's mix tape. Mmhm.**

**P.S.: I am so sorry for all the typos I made in this. If my computer hadn't been broken all this time, I would have fixed it immediately. Please, if there are any more remaining typos, include them in your reviews so I can fix them. Thanks!**

**NOW, ON TO THE STORY!**

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"**I swear to God, this mix could sink the sun."**

_**(The Mixed Tape – Jack's Mannequin)**_

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The sirens started wailing outside the window. The blond groggily looked up, knowing that the police, a fire truck, and three different ambulances were heading out in one hell of a hurry. He recognized the sirens. The boy also knew that his best friend was trailing those emergency vehicles right about now, getting ready to jump into the action and help out in any way he could. It was a super-hero kind of thing.

However, the blonde wasn't about to join him. Instead, he rolled back over in his bed. It was an exhausted-teenager kind of thing.

It was too bad the police scanner programmed into his backpack had picked up the word "metahuman". The device began flashing a red light, beeping for the boy to come and listen to the report. With a sigh, the boy sat up, knowing all hopes of getting a few more minutes of sleep were now completely gone. Those last five minutes had been gone ever since the sixteen year old had developed into another Bang Baby. The only downside to his super-intelligence was being able to figure out just how much of his normal life he'd had to give up to become a super-hero. Sometimes, he let his mind wander around the notion of, "What if I'd stayed normal?"

He was wondering this very thing when he pulled himself out of the comforts of his bed. As soon as his feet hit the floor, his alarm clock went off.

Except, it wasn't really an alarm _clock_. It was an old tape deck, and it switched itself on and started turning the cassette inside. He couldn't turn it off fast enough.

Now playing through the speakers of the old deck was a mixed tape he'd made; 16 tracks, one story. He had spent hours sitting alone in the Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude with that tape deck, Backpack, and seven different cassette tapes. He'd sat there, listening to songs over and over again to fit them together for her perfectly.

The only problem was that the next Monday, when he returned to school with the finished tapes, the recipient was nowhere to be found. The boy had carried those tapes in the pockets of his hoodie for a week, waiting to find her in the hallway and give the girl her mix. But she never showed up.

The first thought in his mind was that she had been avoiding him, but he knew that was stupid. He knew it wasn't right. However, he still took the tapes back to the gas station that weekend and re-arranged the tracks again. He wanted to burn a hole into her. He was angry with her- all the time and energy he'd wasted for her, all the things he'd tried to do and she wasn't there to receive it. He wanted those track to sink the sun.

Another week passed and the girl was yet to make an appearance in the hallways. Eventually, the boy calmed down. After all, there had to be a valid reason she had disappeared without a trace. He left one of the copies of her mixed tape in the journalism room and went home.

But upon entering his room, he realized that the girl _had_ left a trace, and it was in the form of a letter on the boy's bed, the center point of his trashed bedroom.

_Hey kiddo. Sorry for trashing the place- had to get your attention somehow. Nothing's broken, nothing's taken. You can check if you don't believe me. In fact, open some of your drawers and you'll find they're undisturbed. I just made a little mess like it's nobody's business (because it isn't). So anyways, kiddo, please please please don't worry about me, alright? I'm fine. I hear you've been looking for me. And I'm just fine without being found._

_Oh, yeah... Thanks for the tapes._

_-Kori_

He'd never felt more confused in his life. _Thanks for the tapes_, she'd written. But how did she get them? He went back to the school and traced her footsteps, following the rut she'd gone through every day. He hoped he could find where Kori had gotten her hands on the mixed tape. The trail led to the Journalism room, and with the Journalism room, it led to Frieda.

"I found it on the table back there, by our next edition," explained the journalist. "It had Kori's name on it, so I dropped it by her house. Was I not supposed to?" The brunette seemed genuinely sorry. He forgave her.

Forgiving Frieda didn't settle his mind, though. It didn't make Kori's absences seem any less strange, it didn't get the copy of the tape back, and it didn't erase a certain conversation he'd overheard from his mind. While waiting for Virgil one day, he'd heard snippets of conversation between his missing-in-action crush and Daisy.

"I mean it, Daisy. It's like there's a part of him in every second of every day," Kori had sighed. That was all he'd needed to hear to start wishful thinking. He wanted her to have been talking about him.

But that was stupid. Kori Nichols was no friend of his and she sure as hell didn't know he was alive, or at least that's what he kept telling himself. Kori Nichols was that girl that all the boys overlooked because she was a challenge. She was hard to figure out. She was a prize that no one wanted to waste the time fighting for. Kori Nichols was a puzzle, and the blonde's super-genius mind was fascinated by her.

However, as soon as he decided to talk to her, she disappeared. A week. Two. A month. He hadn't seen her in ages, and all he had left of her now was a trashed bedroom, a stolen mix tape, and a letter from a girl who didn't know him.

Truth be told, he probably didn't really know her, either.

The tape deck was suddenly silent, and all that the genius could hear was static from the tape. Side A had finished, and the tape needed to be switched to side B. He started to walk towards the deck, but was interrupted by the sound of his best friend's voice. "Yo, Richie, where are you, dude?" Vigil's voice asked through the Shock Vox. "There's been a car crash down here on Cowan. Trust me; you have _got_ to see this." The blonde looked from the walkie-talkie on his dresser to the tape deck and back. "Dude, I know you're up, you have that stupid cassette tape set to go off like, twenty minutes ago. Those stupid things are so out-dated, man, c'mon. Haul your ass down here, it's important!"

The genius shot a glare to the Shock Vox, as if his partner could have seen the daggers in his eyes. With a heavy sigh, the blonde grabbed his rocket-skates and the bag with his superhero getup. He knew he couldn't hide from Dakota in his "stupid, out-dated mix tapes" anymore.

"Richie to Virgil," he said to the device, "I'm on my way."

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**A.N.: So, as a reminder for those like me that forget to review after reading the story,_ PLEASE REVIEW_! Aha, I know I must sound demanding, but I haven't written in a long time, and I'm trying to see if I'm still any good. Please help me better my writing skills. :) Thank you.**


	2. Car Crash

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hello again, world!**

**I'm actually kinda diggin' the way this story is turning out, contrary to the belief of my two reviewers… But that's okay!Because everyone has their opinions. ****It may be that you guys have only read a prologue, but I've written probably two or three chapters ahead of you, so I know what's going on. This is kind of a little bit like a mystery thing! Aha. **

**Hmmmm… Now, while this is my warm up to NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), it's actually growing on me to become a better story than I'd first intended. I might even change a few tracks in the tape to make the story less tedious, and repetitive, and YOU GET THE POINT.**

**Anyways, **_**Secret Review Number**_** for this chapter is different. ;) SO… Keep up your reviewing.**

**So this is the **_**official**_** CHAPTER ONE… Yep, yep, yep. This one I ended up cutting an entire _page_ off my first draft, aha. The things that end up relevant in editing, hmm?**

**If you find something that irks you, or that I screwed up on, ****PLEASE**** tell me. While I would love to hear that you like the story and want me to update, I love hearing what you **_**think**_** about the chapter. ****Predictions****, favorites, ****Predictions,**** things that you thought didn't belong, ****Predictions****… Anything and everything (but maybe some predictions). I actually WANT to know everything that's wrong with this story. And while saying that you "didn't understand a single sentence", I'd like to know _why_ so I can fix that. Thank you.**

**Buuuuut…. I like hearing what's right, too. **

**ON TO THE NEXT INSTALLMENT OF OUR FESTIVE TALE:**

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"**Wake me up."**

_**(Car Crash – Artist VS Poet)**_

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Everything sounded so far away. The car horns, screaming, the police radios and sirens... They all sounded so distant. Things were moving slower than they were supposed to. The world was in a disorienting state of blurry, hazy madness. Nothing made sense.

"Hello?" shouted a fuzzy voice. "Are you alright?"

The girl looked around, getting her bearings. Everything surrounding her was in some form of disarray. All she could recognize was a maze of crushed metal, shredded foam, ripped faux leather, and broken glass. Nothing within sight was still in one piece.

In fact, she wasn't even sure if _she_ was in one piece.

"Where…?" she started, wondering where her parents were. She couldn't find them in the wreckage. "Where…?" she started to say again, but was cut off by a broken fragment of metal falling from the roof of the car. It fell straight down onto her thigh, impaling her. She looked down to her leg and watched the gray fabric of her skinny jeans turn crimson.

Blood.

It was like an alarm clock just went off.

All of a sudden, the girl could feel again. She could feel her left ear burning. Her lower lip must have cracked, because she could suddenly taste the blood. The side of her head was throbbing like crazy, and when she placed her hand on the spot where her head hurt the most, she felt it was sopping wet, and it stung to the touch.

The most pain her body was feeling right now was in her leg, however, where the hunk of car roof had punctured her thigh. Tears welled up in her eyes.

She tried desperately to hold in her tears, but she couldn't. Sobbing, she screamed, "Help!" He body tensed up, only making her leg hurt worse. She screamed again.

Well, the girl had definitely found the rush she felt she'd been missing back at Dakota Union High school. Her heart was racing in her throat. She felt like it was stopping her from breathing.

"What happened?" asked what sounded like a boy her age. He said the exact thought she'd been thinking. The girl thought she recognized the voice, but she couldn't be sure. She was still disoriented, like she was still waking up.

All she could remember was the horrible sound of metal screeching on the pavement; a nails-on-chalkboard kind of cringing sound. Then, the smell of burnt rubber plugged her nose, and the car filled with screams. The brakes wailed, screeching to a stop. The next thing the brunette knew, she was opening her eyes to a car that was crumpled, ripped, bent, and broken.

And now, the engine of the car was on fire.

"Please!" she screamed again, her voice shrill and filled with tears. She tried to crawl out from under the driver's seat, which had pinned her right leg. She twisted around and found the brake light flashing in her face. She gasped for air, desperately repeating, "Please!"

She broke down, sobbing. No one could possibly climb _into_ the car, not to mention bring her _out_ of it. She didn't want to be pessimistic about it, but she knew this had to be the end.

"Hold on!" yelled another familiar voice. "We'll get you out of there!"

She heard an electric buzzing sound, and then the roof of the car began to peel itself back. As the metal crumpled itself into an opening she saw Static, Dakota's local superhero. He smiled at her, and then two paramedics rushed into the car.

"We need to get her to a hospital," yelled one, "Like, _now_! Where's the stretcher?"

"Here!" yelled a third paramedic, rushing the stretcher towards the wreck. The wheels squeaked on the asphalt. It caused a playback in the girls head; the car dropping to the ground, the tires burnt off and that horrible sound. She started sobbing all over again.

"Oh my god," remarked a second masked hero. He was the boy who'd vocalized the girl's thoughts earlier. He nudged at Static, pointing to her. "Dude…"

"Hush," instructed Static. He turned to one of the medics, asking, "Is she going to be okay?"

The paramedic shrugged. "It all depends on how bad this gash in her leg is. I think she'll be okay, though."

He and another medic lifted up the girl and placed her on the stretcher. She cried out, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut. "Calm down," said the medic pushing the stretcher. "You need to relax, or you'll make things worse."

She whined from the pain, but nodded.

"Can we get out some anesthesia? Like, _now_?" demanded the paramedic holding open the doors to the back of the ambulance.

"You're going to be fine, kiddo. We'll take good care of you." The stretcher was lifted into the ambulance.

"Are you guys sure she'll be okay?" asked Static's friend. The girl thought she remembered him being called "Gear".

"Son, all we know for sure right now is that she _needs_ to get to a hospital," replied one of the medics before she shut the ambulance doors.

"But-" Gear started again, but the ambulance engine growled to life and the sirens began wailing again.

He could hear the medics conversing behind the doors as the emergency vehicle pulled away. "We need to get her I.D," he heard. "Call her parents."

Gear already knew who she was. He'd been searching for her for a month. Static placed his hand on his partner's shoulder. "C'mon, Gear," he started, "or we're gonna be late for _you-know-what _withHurricane _You-Know-Who_…"

Normally, the electro-magnetic superhero's cracks at Frieda would have made the blonde at least crack a smirk. But not today. Right now, he was too shocked by the face of the girl they'd pulled out of the wreck.

The two heroes took off from the hectic crime scene, knowing they'd have to book it to get to Dakota Union High School on time, but Gear couldn't help but wonder why his best friend didn't seem to be affected by the identity of the victim. "Yo," he said, catching his partner's attention. "Yo, Virge?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you… Did you know who that was, back there?"

Static cocked his head, thinking. "The girl, or the medics? 'Cause I _definitely_ didn't know the medics, if that's what you were wondering."

Gear smirked. "No, no. The girl. Did you… I dunno… did you recognize her?"

Shaking his head, Static replied, "No. Was _hella_ banged-up, man. Why, did you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Let's put it this way; she's very… _spicy_."

Static's eyes went wide with realization.

The two froze; Static's face horror-struck and Gear's full of an almost conflicted guilt. Simultaneously, the two announced, "That was Kori Nichols."

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**A.N.: Did I do a better job this time? Please, click that little button down there and tell me what you thought!**


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